Stronger, Better, Faster
by EpikalStorms
Summary: Every phone line in America was crowded with missed calls. Families trying to call their loved ones, the ones that had been in the towers and the surrounding area, hoping that someone would answer. Friends, trying to reach whoever had fought off the hijackers in the Pennsylvania crash, hoping that someone, anyone, had survived. *A tribute to those who lost their lives in 9.11*
1. Chapter 1: Pull Together

**Stronger, Better, Faster**

**9.11**

_An EpikalStorms story._

**APH**

It was suppose to be a regular meeting. On a regular day. With normal occasions. With the usual countries antics. England and America would fight about their regular problems, Russia would stay his quiet self, Germany would try to keep order, France would observe and make fun while occasionally hitting on everyone, China would try to over stuff them all with food, Japan would... do whatever Japan did, and America would try to be everyones hero, while still holding that amazingly blinding grin on his face.

But that's not what happened. That's not what happened at all.

"Dudes! Seriously, _Global_. _Warming_. I'm telling you!"

They were holding a World Conference, per usual, in the break room of the Sears Tower, in Chicago. They were suppose to be having it on the hundredth floor of the North Tower of the World Trading Center, but America had rescheduled at the last minute. He'd said something about "bad juju" and had gone about everything as normal. Although, he had posted guards around every single one of the Fifty States, and had seemed rather urgent to get the President out of New York. The other countries had wondered what the hell he was going on about, but they'd just left it as his usual, annoying antics.

America finally finished, after going on about the giant robot they should pitch in together and build, to protect the world. Russia was up, now, speaking about weather conditions in his country, and America was doodling on a blank piece of paper. England was trying to pay attention, but even China's head was nodding off in a doze.

Suddenly, everyone's heads snapped up as a cry of pain rang through the room. England looked over to see America clutching his chest in agony, with his head bowed, and his eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"America? What's wrong?" England tried to get his ex-charge to sit up straight.

The other countries were slightly alarmed, but they told England to dismiss it as one of his silly games for attention, before they all went back to listening to Russia.

A while later, America, who was still curled up in a ball, gave out another cry, gasping for air. England's brows furrowed, but he didn't say anything.

Throughout Russia's speech, America cried out four times. In total. England was just starting to think that something was really wrong, when Russia finally ended his lecture, and sat down. It was Japan's turn now.

Suddenly, America screamed in agony, falling to the floor as blood seeped through his A-2 jacket. The other countries yelled his name, absolutely sure something wasn't right now, but he wouldn't respond.

"America-san!"

"America, are you okay, aru?"

"America! America! Please answer!"

"America, say something, please!"

He didn't.

**APH**

_OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGO—_

_A PLANE! A PLANE JUST—OH MY GOD!_

_THAT'S NOT AMERICAN AIRLINES!_

_Mommy! What's happening!_

_It's okay, sweetheart. Just stay calm, it's okay. We're okay..._

_Dad! How do we get down? The stairway's collapsing!_

_Mr. Brownell! Sir, what's going on?_

_Boss, what are we suppose to do?_

_Captain! They hijacked the plane! _

_We have to—sir!_

_We're taking this plane back!_

_BANG! _

One dead.

_CRASH!_

A thousand more are condemned.

_CRASH!_

A million, now.

_OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY **HELP** ME!_

His people were suffering, burning.

_I'm _not_ gonna be burned to death!_

_Daddy! No, don't! Please!_

They were falling. Crashing to the earth.

_Oh my god! The Towers are collapsing! THE TOWERS ARE COLLAPSING!_

They were being crushed.

_Daddy! Mom! Please wake up! Say something! Tell me that I'm grounded! Say you love me—anything! Please!_

His children—

_CRASH!_

—killed_._

_Sir! Sir, the stairs are blocked, there's no way down!_

_Why? Why me! Why us! Why America?_

And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

**APH**

America writhed on the ground, screaming, yelling. Crying.

"Stop! Make it stop!"

England was frantic. "America! Tell me what's happening!"

Germany started barking out orders. "Lithuania! Turn the TV to CNN! Italy! Go to the nearest first aid center and get me some bandages! France, Britain, help me hold him down!"

Suddenly, America was sobbing. "No! Stop it! Don't! Please, stop jumping! Stop, dammit! _Stooooop_!" He screamed.

England felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. "What's he talking about? Germany, what's happening?"

The blond man shook his head. "I don't—Lithuania! Turn the damn TV on!"

The screen crackled to life, and everyone leaned in to see the headlines. All it said was "_World Trade Center"._

Russia sighed. "I knew it was nothi—" His eyes widened.

Then, the room grew deathly quiet, save for America's screaming.

"_This just in! A plane has crashed into the World Trade Center!"_

"_Oh my god, people are—they're jumping!"_

"_Breaking News! Another plane just landed in the Pentagon! All personnel are ordered to evacuate the building immediately! Repeat: All person—"_

"_Everyone is to escape immediately! Everybody, out the—"_

"_Oh lord—they're jumping! People are jumping! Look! They're falling!"_

"_Oh my god! Oh my—"_

"_More Breaking News! Another hijacked plane just crashed in Pennsylvania! It is assumed to be a failed terrorist attack—"_

"_OH MY GOD! THE TOWERS ARE COLLAPSING! THE TOWERS—"_

Everyones face paled and their blood ran cold, as the buildings on the screen fell, and America screamed in agony behind them.

Germany was the first to snap out of his daze. "England! Help me hold him down—WHERE THE HELL IS ITALY! I NEED THOSE BANDAGES!"

"America-san!"

"America! Wake up, please!"

"America, say something!"

"Say you're the hero! Please!"

"_Mein_ _Gott_—ITALY! ITALY, GET IN HERE!"

**APH**

The President ran, as fast as his legs could carry him. The whole building could hear the yelling, and at first they had assumed it was just the countries bickering. Then the blood-curdling screams had started up, and now they were all waiting in baited breath. He had told someone to turn on the TV, following the words of Germany's shouts, and everyone in the fucking building had froze, staring at the damned thing in horror. So had he, at first. But as the screams reached his ears once more, all he could think about was Mr. Jones. "America! Mr. America!"

He pushed open the doors, and _froze_.

**APH**

America was in bad shape. Both figuratively speaking, and not. Every citizen of America was sitting still, frozen in place as they were attacked. Frozen, in horror of the still growing death toll. Their friends, their families, even strangers—who they now considered their friends. Of course, _everyone_ was together today—clung to each other. For comfort. For reassurance, as they watched their homeland fall apart.

And America did, too. The nation lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes, not really seeing anything. At least, not anything that _they_ could see. He was still crying. Still sobbing. Still reliving the whole event, every detail, over and over again, just like his people were. Just like the world was.

Except Afghanistan. She was _smiling_. Her people were _celebrating_. She'd been brutally kicked out from the meeting, when the other countries had found out that it was her who had attacked America.

I mean; sure, he was annoying at times, but not even _he_ deserved... _this_.

It had taken a while for the others to figure it out, of course. And she'd been sitting there the whole damn time, smirking.

Happy. Happy that one man had used his abilities to kill thousands. Millions. Even more. And why? They didn't know. They didn't _want_ to know.

Murder. By crashing those fucking planes, was all it took. To condemn all those people. To send a whole nation on red alert. To cause _this_ to America.

He was gasping, breathless. England, Canada, France, China, Japan, _Russia_—hell, even _Germany_ was crying with him. They'd all lost many of their people, just now. Not fifteen minutes ago. And it was still _happening_.

But none of them had it as bad as America.

He had blood everywhere, seeping from the bandages that Italy had finally shown up with. He was riddled with bullet wounds, somehow. A large gash—two, actually—had appeared on either side of his chest, and a long, bloody, lightning-shaped one on the leftmost side of his forehead.

So much blood. If he'd been human, there was no way he could've survived. Even now, he looked half-dead. His breathing was shallow, his eyes fluttering.

They were all covered in blood, actually. But it wasn't theirs. So much of it, it had stained all their clothes a black cherry color, reminding them both of the sweet fruit and of the horrors they had just witnessed.

America whimpered, suddenly, and England was there first, with Canada, France, and Russia following closely behind, and Italy, Germany, and China close one their heels with Japan and Lithuania. "America? Are you... awake?"

He choked, tears streaming down his blood-covered face. "En...gla...nd...?" He coughed, violently.

England gathered him in his arms, as Canada leaned over his shoulder anxiously, and France, Russia, Italy and Germany sat beside them. "We're here."

"It... hurts..." He gasped.

England felt tears come to his eyes, to see this nation, who was usually so strong, so hard-headed... this nation, a nation he _raised_...

Canada's grip on his shoulders tightened, and he felt the young country bury his tears into his neck. France hugged himself, and Italy hugged them all.

He was more gentle with America, of course. But as Italy hugged him, he cried out in pain. "H-Hurts..."

Italy started to cry. He ran to Germany, who had no self defense against the distressed nation.

America screamed again, breaking the silence, and making them all jump. "America? What's happening?"

He coughed, sobbing. "More buil-buildings... collapsing... People... d-dying..."

They lapsed into silence once more.

America reached for England, sobbing hysterically. "D-Daddy..."

England paled. America... he hadn't called him that since...

France leaned further in. "Amérique?

America's eyes watered. "P-Papa..."

Austria Hungary covered her face. She was crying again. Lithuania hugged her, still staring in shock at the U.S.A newscast, which was replaying the live-video, and adding more disaster to the mix every coming second.

The President of the U.S sat in panic and shock, unable to do anything. Finally, he jumped up and rushed out of the room, looking for a phone and a free line.

He couldn't find one. Every phone line in America was crowded with missed calls. Families trying to call their loved ones, the ones that had been in the towers and the surrounding area, hoping that someone would answer. Friends, trying to reach whoever had fought off the hijackers in the Pennsylvania crash, hoping that someone, anyone, had survived.

No one answered. But they kept calling anyway.

He finally got a line, just thirty seconds. But in that thirty seconds, he sent a recovery team to the field in Pennsylvania, and posted an order that no plane could land in America as of today.

Canada volunteered to take the incoming American Airlines, and managed to reach his Prime Minister to issue the request.

Germany was talking with Russia, trying to figure out how and who attacked America. They'd figured out it had been Afghanistan, yes, and now they searched for the terrorist group.

England held America in his arms, trying to keep him calm and, with the help of France, and some other nations, like Germany and Russia and Lithuania, he managed to stop the blood flow. _Most_ of it.

Then, America woke up, and he clenched England's shirt, hissing in pain.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..."

England frowned in worry, along with the other nations. Was he talking to them? Or was he talking to himself, or his people? "America, why are you sorry? Who are you talking to?" China knelt next to him.

"I wasn't there... Couldn't save them... Ran... _ran_ _away_..."

"What? You didn't run away, America! How could you run away, you weren't even _there_..." England's eyes widened. "Th-The place of the Conference... re-scheduled... you re-scheduled it..."

Canada started to tremble. "Y-You knew this was going to happen?" The room was deathly quiet.

America coughed, crying again. "Didn't... Had bad feeling... Tried everything...everything I could... Still happened, though... " He sobbed, fists tightening on Britain's shirt.

Their eyes widened. Of course. America had seemed off this morning. Different, somehow. Why hadn't they seen it? He'd acted the same, right before the Pearl Harbor incident. Germany had, too, just before November 9th... And Japan, before America dropped that atomic bomb, not knowing the consequences that would result. That had been one of the only things they had all agreed on. No atomic bombs...

Except, this was much, much worse... the signs had all been so clear... If they had payed attention, they could have even stopped this!

America whimpered again. He looked so... fragile. Vulnerable. Distant.

But not weak. No. If anything, this would make him stronger. Things like these, events of destruction and mayhem, they either tore a nation apart, or made it inseparable.

And, knowing America, he'd keep together.

**APH**

**OKAY! Finally done! Be honest, who cried? **

***sniffles***

**Steeve: I's did. :(**

**Me: Oooof course you did, Steeve...**

**If any of you see grammatical errors, please contact me about them, especially if they really bother you. I'm only thirteen, though, so gimme SOME slack, at least.**

**(Please, don't! I absolutely LOVE constructive criticism! But it must be constructive, or you will Pay... ^ ^)**

**Thank you! Please Read, and REVIEW! Have a nice day!**

***is trying to be optimistic***

**I am still wondering whether or not I should add more chapters to this... should I keep it a one-shot? **

**With excitable love, and peace for all platypus fans!**

**~EpikalStorms***

**(Storm)**


	2. Chapter 2: Don't Blink

It's been ten years. They weren't long. Actually, I'd have to say they've been quite short. I can still hear all of my people screaming. All of my children pleading for help. I can still see when my beautiful World Trade Center fell to dust. I can still close my eyes and watch as my people make the decision to get crushed, to burn, or to fall.

I try not to close my eyes too much.

Germany said I was going through Post Traumatic Stress. I don't believe him.

Russia said I should just sit back and enjoy show. Since when did I listen to the commie bastard? Pass.

Italy said I needed to eat more pasta. No thanks.

England said that time would go on, with or without me, but I still had reason to sit back and remember. … I kinda-maybe-sorta may have hugged him, very emotionally. Not sure, don't remember.

Anyway, despite anything I've been told, I still think I just need to wait. And, ya know, just never close my eyes again.

Don't blink.

It hurts.

APH

It has been ten years. Surprisingly, they seemed to speed by pretty fast, but they all assumed time went agonizingly long for America and his people.

Yeah? Screw them.

So, ten years. Ten years since the world had stopped turning. Ten years since the sun had frozen it's gravity. Ten years since Father Time himself had gaped in horror, along with the rest of the world, at the most disastrous moment in American history.

Ten years. That's how long it took them to catch the bastard. That's how long he got to live, after everything he did.

Ten years, since the World Conference had been held on the eleventh of September. Now, they were gonna see what happens.

APH

_I hear people saying _

_we don't need this war  
I say there's some things _

_worth fighting for  
What about our freedom _

_and this piece of ground  
We didn't get to keep 'em _

_by backing down  
They say we don't realize the mess we're getting in  
Before you start your preaching  
Let me ask you this my friend_

Russia blinked, slowly. It was... different, really. His people had been through hard times, and bloody events. Did he get a song?

Well, maybe. It's not like he cared to Google it. Still, it would be nice if he got... _this_.

_Have you forgotten _

_how it felt that day  
To see your homeland under fire  
__And her people blown away  
Have you forgotten _

_when __those towers fell  
We had neighbors still inside  
Going through a living hell  
And you say we shouldn't worry 'bout Bin Laden  
Have you forgotten_

England felt tears sting his eyes. It was amazing. Beautiful. All these people, getting together. Thousands of individuals signing in harmony. Strangers, holding hands, and crying tears of sorrow for those that had shared the same fate.

_They took all the footage _

_off my TV  
Said it's too disturbing _

_for you and me  
It'll just breed anger _

_that's what the experts say  
If it was up to me I'd show it everyday  
Some say this country's just out looking for a fight  
Well, after 9/11 man I'd have to say that's right_

Germany had to crack a smile. It's good to hear the strength of the American people. It felt good to stand here, and see how one thing, however tragic, could bring many, many people together in a moment of peace.

Fighting, wars, battles. They were all terrible. They were all something the world could do without.

Of course, maybe America deserved it.

_Have you forgotten _

_how it felt that day  
To see your homeland under fire  
And her people blown away  
Have you forgotten _

_when those towers fell  
We had neighbors still inside  
Going through a living hell  
And we vowed to get the one's behind Bin Laden  
Have you forgotten_

Italy wouldn't let go of Germany. The song was... wonderful. Amazing. This event was... so inspiring. No wonder America was, albeit young, one of the strongest of them all.

He had the right stuff to get him there. Further, if he tried.

_I've been there with the soldiers  
Who've gone away to war  
And you can bet that they remember  
Just what they're fighting for_

Japan wasn't one to cry. Really, he wasn't. Though in all honesty, even China seemed to be teary-eyed throughout the verses.

_Have you forgotten _

_all the people killed  
Yes, some went down like heroes _

_in that Pennsylvania field  
Have you forgotten _

_about our Pentagon  
All the loved ones that we lost  
And those left to carry on  
Don't you tell me not to worry 'bout Bin Laden  
Have you forgotten_

_Have you forgotten?_ No. England didn't think he ever would.

_Have you forgotten?_ Absolutely not. Not that China really could.

_Have you forgotten?_ Never. Germany was sure of it. Italy was, too.

_Have you forgotten?_ America knew that he hadn't. He felt it ring true in every single one of his bones. He never would. Not now, not ever. For the rest of his life, which would be long, he would remember this day.

And he would never blink.

Ever again.

Nope.

APH

"_**What were you thinking when it happened?"**_

"_I... I wasn't really thinking all too much. I just sat and... I screamed a little... cried a lot... I-I started to run away, with the others, right when the-the b-body parts started falling..."_

"_**Body parts?"**_

"_Yeah. When the plane crashed, everyone went crazy-like, and people were running around, screaming. Th-the body... parts started falling a little after the... the people started, uh, jumping out the... the windows..."_

"_**Did anyone you knew die?"**_

"_I... yeah. Actually, I'm pretty sure we all had someone. Mine was my... my cousin."_

"_**... I'm sorry."**_

"_I... yeah, okay."_

The screen was static for a millisecond, then it focused on someone else.

"_**What was your first thought, when the plane hit the North Tower?"**_

"_My first thought? Well, that was probably 'Oh my God', just like a lot of other people. Then, I probably panicked..."_

_**How about when the second plane hit?"**_

"_Then? I... actually, I started to get really pissed..."_

"_**Why is that?"**_

"_I guess 'cause... Well, I knew that if it happened twice, it couldn't be an accident. The moment the second plane came flying over, I just thought "Oh my God, I'm gonna kill whoever did this..."_

The reporter grinned, and so did the interview.

"_**Haha, and we did, didn't we?"**_

"_Yeah! I... Hell yeah, we did!"_

The reporter and the man fist-bumped, and the screen switched to another person.

"_**So, what was your thoughts on all of this?"**_

"_All of it... Hmmm... Well, I probably said a lot of bad words... I can't really remember. It's all gotten... Well, fuzzy... Actually, some parts are really vivid..."_

"_**Which parts?"**_

"_When the people started jumping. That one really got me. I was absolutely freaking out. And, um, the beginning..."_

"_**You were in one of the towers, weren't you?"**_

"_I, uh... Yeah, I was."_

"_**What was it like?"**_

_Well, luckily I was at the ground floor... So I guess I got out pretty quick. And then, I was outside, and looking up, w-watching people fall... I was just like 'That could be me'..."_

"_**Are you glad it wasn't?"**_

"_Am I glad? Hell no. If I could switch places with anyone up there, I would."_

"_**Why?"**_

"_No one should have to suffer that. I would feel better if it was me. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."_

"_**I see...Thank you for your time, Miss."**_

"_No problem."_

The screen was static again, but this time, it didn't switch to anyone. After a few more moments, It went black, just like all the other screens in the shop windows.

The store clerk gazed at the blank televisions for a moment, before gently turning the cords of the blinds.

He hoped with all his heart that nothing like that would ever befall America again.

APH

**Okay, I know this was short, but I'm working on it! No worries! I still need a Beta, a cover artist, and reviews...**

**Hopefully, they will all come with time...**

**Really, the only reason this story is updated is because I was bored, and had time on my hands to spare. Lucky you. **

**Until next time!**

**~EpikalStorms**


	3. Chapter 3: Feelings Shared

They hadn't had a World meeting on this day for eleven years. And _she_ hadn't attended a single one in that time as well. This year was different. They were holding a G8 meeting on September 11, 2012, in Berlin, Germany, and Afghanistan had decided to come. They only longed for America to stay home today.

However, their hopes were in vain.

He came, walking through those double oak doors, far from his usual loud, happy-go-lucky self. They stared silently as he made his way to his seat, wishing, hoping that he wouldn't notice the dark skinned newcomer.

Maybe they should just stop hoping and wishing, since it was only about three long, agonizing seconds before his empty, sky blue eyes landed on her, the one person they all believed he resented with an ultimatum.

He stared in silence as she eyed him with a small smirk. If you looked closely, you could see regret and nervousness in her dark chocolate eyes, but non of the others, save for America, had cast her a sideways glance, choosing to blatantly ignore the fact that she was even in their presence.

America sent her a weak glare, before making his way to her seat. Afghanistan shifted in her chair, watching as he approached. She shook her head and looked up into his eyes. "Hello, America."

He blinked, then sat in one of the empty seats next to her. "Hello, Mastana."

She sat up at the use of her human name, flicking a stray loop of black hair behind her shoulder. "My country is celebrating today. A great victory," she flashed him a white-toothed smile, "was it not?"

There was a small, collective intake of breath as the other countries turned to see how America would react. Would he lash out? Would he just resort to glaring in anger and hate? Would he do something drastic? Would he give a witty comeback?

None of the above, apparently, although it seemed at first he was going to go with the first, as he quietly reached out a pale hand to grasp her shoulder. That was all, however. She tried flinching away, but America was too fast for her. Like lightning, he gripped her shoulder and closed his eyes tightly, resting his free arm on the table before them.

As if she had been shocked, Afghanistan straightened inhumanly fast and let out a strangled gasp, and the others watched as her dark brown eyes glazed over to milk chocolate.

The other nations were silent, watching the two. Finally they broke into quietly whispered chats.

"What do you think he's doing?"

"Why's she like that?"

"Is he hurting her? Good riddance."

"I don't get it..."

Ve~ Germany! Germany, what's going on?"

"_NO! STOP! STOP __**JUMPING!**_"

They jumped in surprise as Afghanistan broke down into tears, sobbing, murmuring nonsense. While they were whispering, they hadn't noticed America had finished whatever he had done. He sat back in his chair now, slipping his glasses into his front pocket and wiping a fresh tear from his face.

Afghanistan slid to the floor and looked up at him, shaking in grief. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't—I didn't know... The boss, they made me.. and, I didn't even _want_ to... Stupid Taliban, they... I'm sorry..." She buried her face into her hands. "that's _horrible_, that's_ terrible_, that's_ unacceptable_, _unforgivable_..."

America was silent for a moment, staring down at her with a sad, knowing look on his face. It was out of place. He was suppose to be happy all the time, brightening their days with joy, and playfulness. He wasn't suppose to be sad. He was one of the youngest, they were suppose to protect him from terrible stuff like this. He shouldn't have to face cold evils, he shouldn't have to be unable to forgive, he shouldn't—

Their thoughts vanished into void darkness as they watched America slid down next to her and wrap his supposed enemy in a tight hug. Afghanistan was frozen in shock, her brown eyes wide, staring at him in surprise. "I..."

After a while, she buried her face into his jacket, and he whispered a word of comfort to her, quietly. The other nations had apparently vanished from their sights, even thought they still shared the same room.

After a while, Afghanistan's crying whirred down, and she sighed, as if throughly depressed. She glanced up at America, puzzled by something. "I-I didn't know nations could share memories and emotions like that..."

**Okay, here it is. Yes, I know what the terrorists did was totally unforgivable, but it wasn't necessarily all of Afghanistan's fault. It was a certain group of people, not the country as a whole. We shouldn't blame them ALL for something only a small number of their people committed, no matter how horrific it may have been.**

**I'm not trying to be indifferent, or a stone block of emotionless facade, but I've really had it with all these Muslim, and Islamic haters.**

**This is the third, and most likely final, installment for this series of 9.11 ficlets. **

**Thank you for reading,**

**~EpikalStorms***


End file.
